Passage

Written on 22 October 2019.

Passage

I am synthesizing various sounds
     rebounding through the fields around
serendipitous and forgetting
     the central flute of my awakening
  -  a bright tower of orange power  -
the tree toots reach us all, steadily
     Hive Speak they truly believe,
they do that that which they
     find in the forest (is the Ultimate God)
     or an equivalent
time,
         dead as it is born
     in a constant, violent,
brutal assault on the senses
known as reality
fall into that pit of misery, man
it look so fun down there in hell
     if I felt any less like a person -
I am so so sorry (my heart goes
     out to you every day)
there's quite a bit of confusing
garbage woven into the fabric of cohesion
yet, miraculously, everything that
     exists, remains
                beautiful
until the fortresses crumble and
     amidst the rubble, those who would've
been compelled to ask whether
there's such a thing as right or wrong
most likely are driven into the wall
on the horns of the bull and
     without any intention beyond survival